Renegade
by VAM-W
Summary: UNDER REVISION. When Harry comes across some old family records in the Hogwarts library, all hell is about to break lose. Rated for future chapters. Revision and revival in progress. Features Spy!Vampire!Harry
1. Revision Notice

Author's Note:

I'm currently in the process of completely overhauling this story. I originally started this story when I was, um, eight years younger than I am now (not telling!), and my writing style and preferences have changed dramatically since then. I've also learned the glories of outlining. In any case, much of what is already here will be in the new story, which I will repost under a new heading. It'll just be much better planned and written. If you currently have this story in your favorites, bear with me and I'll post a notice here when the new story goes up.


	2. Runaway and Renegade

_Chapter 1 – Runaway and Renegade_

Harry Potter walked calmly out of the library at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his foul mood betrayed only by the crackling in his bright green eyes and the slamming of the great oak door.

He was finally allowed to stay the summer at the school, after having been beaten within an inch of his life just after his sixth year. It seemed his uncle did not take well to being continuously threatened by a number of wizards. Harry snorted; he could have told them that.

Now as he walked down the empty corridors of Hogwarts, he couldn't help but wonder what he was going to do that afternoon. He certainly did not plan on staying here with Dumbledore, whose office he was going to. That manipulating old bastard had messed up his life enough as it was. His thoughts were cut short by the sight of the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.

Harry stopped and composed himself before saying the password, "Fizzing Whizbees." When he reached the top of the spiral staircase, he didn't bother knocking.

"Headmaster," he said mildly, striding into the large round room. "I have a question for you."

"Of course, Harry. Have a seat. Lemon Drop?" the Headmaster asked amiably, an annoying twinkle in his eyes.

Harry politely refused and cut to the chase. "When were you going to tell me about my cousin?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed slightly. "Now Harry…" he began to say in a pacifying voice.

"Even better, when were you going to tell me about my great-grandmother on my father's side? I've known about that one for a while now." Harry was slowly losing his cool, but he didn't care anymore. "Were you going to tell me at all? Or were you just going to let me risk my life trying to kill my own cousin? Were you going to let this go on as a so-called 'battle between good and evil'? Or were you going to tell me that you wanted the heirs of Gryffindor to finish off the Slytherin line? Does Hermione even know? Or have you been leaving important bits about her heritage out to her, too? Did it ever occur to you that getting _me_, of all people, to try and wipe out the Slytherin line would be rather pointless? I don't plan on killing myself, and no thanks to you, I know that _I am a Slytherin_."

As Harry paused to take a breath, Dumbledore said, "Harry, I—"

That was as far as he got, as Harry had yelled, "_OBLIVIATE!"_ Dumbledore's eyes slid out of focus for a moment, then, "Why hello, Harry, what can I do for you? Lemon Drop?"

"No thank you, Professor. Just came to tell you I'm going shopping," Harry replied, his mask of calm firmly in place.

After Dumbledore let him go, Harry went to his rooms on the ground floor and collected his belongings, making sure to take copies of a couple of books from the library. When his things were shrunk and in his pocket, Harry made his way to the gates and Disapparated.

Knockturn Alley was most definitely a seedy place. The only people who went there were either criminals or Dark Arts Practitioners. Fortunately for Harry, the latter was just what he was looking for.

He quickly learned that trying to seek out a man that didn't was to be found was nearly impossible. An hour later, he was browsing through Borgin & Burkes when the object of his search found _him._

"Well, well, what have we here?" a silky voice said, right behind him.

"Lucius," Harry greeted calmly, not looking up from the book he was perusing. "I've been looking for you. We need to talk."

He couldn't see it, but Harry knew the blonde behind him had an eyebrow arched and a supercilious smirk on his face. "Is that so?" Lucius drawled. "In that case, let me finish some business here and we can go…talk."

Harry nodded and waved him off. When Lucius was done, Harry quickly paid for the book and they left together. Just outside the store, Lucius stopped him.

"How sensitive is the subject matter of you little talk?" he asked softly.

Harry leaned in close. "Somewhere along the lines of 'you could go to Azkaban if you're not careful where you take me,'" he said, just as quietly. He straightened up. "However, you won't have to worry about that if you take the proper privacy precautions."

The elder Malfoy seemed to think on this for a minute, as if weighing pros and cons. Finally, he said, "Very well," and extended a hand to Harry.

Harry cautiously took the proffered hand and was Apparated to a large sitting room.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," Lucius said.

A familiar prickling in Harry's scar made him look sharply at his host. "Voldemort's here."

The blonde cocked his head at Harry's simple knowledge. "Indeed," he replied after a moment. "Is that a problem?"

"No. That's perfect." Harry took out his wand and dug through his pocket for his trunk. Unshrinking it, he took out the two books he had copied from the library and reshrunk the trunk. When he looked up, he saw that Lucius had his wand trained on Harry's heart. "What?" he asked plaintively.

"What are those?" the man asked, lowering his wand slightly.

"Some books I need to show your Lord. He would be very interested to know what's in them."

Lucius stared at him in disbelief. "Are you honestly asking to speak to the Dark Lord?"

"Yes," came the simple reply.

Lucius narrowed his eyes and dropped his arm. "Follow me," he said, and stalked out of the room, Harry following.

As they walked down the hall, Draco came out of one of the rooms. After taking a look at the scene before him, he said, "Father, are you aware that Potter is stalking you?"

Harry wisely kept silent.

"He is following me, Draco, not stalking me. Go back to your studies for now; I will tell you about it later," Lucius said calmly. Draco looked slightly confused, but obeyed.

When they stopped in front of a closed door, Lucius said, "Wait here," and entered the room. When he came back out, he took Harry's wand and ushered him into the room.

The young wizard took a moment to observe his surroundings. The walls were a cream color trimmed with red and gold. Harry raised his eyebrows at the idea of Lucius Malfoy tolerating Gryffindor colors in his house, but he had to admit it looked good. The floor seemed to be covered in Aztec tiles, and there was a black and green plush rug on the floor in front of a throne-like chair in the middle of the room. Oddly enough, this chair was empty.

A door in the back of the room opened, and a man with reckless black and silver locks stepped out. From the small smirk and red eyes, Harry knew exactly who it was.

"Hullo Tom," he said casually. "You're looking much better than when I last saw you."

"Indeed I am," the man replied. "If it wasn't your doing that I am even this bad off, I would say thank you." He seemed to scrutinize Harry for a moment. "Lucius said you have something to show me?"

"That I do."

Tom Riddle, Jr., also known as Lord Voldemort, nodded and summoned a chair and table.

"Lucius, leave us," he said.

"Tom," Harry cut in. "It might be better if he heard this."

Tom quirked an elegant eyebrow at him. "Is that so?"

"Yes. I'd rather not explain it twice, and he could be of use for part of it."

Red eyes narrowed, but he nodded, and drew up a chair for the blonde. Once everyone was comfortable, Harry placed the first book on the table.

"I'm fairly sure you recognize this, Tom," he said. "You might too, Lucius."

He was answered with nods all around. "It's the self-updating list of the Slytherin line," Tom said. "That's how I found out about my heritage."

"And where in the Hogwarts library was it when you found it?"

The other two men gave him strange looks. "It was with the books for the other three founders, and the rest of the old pureblood families."

Lucius nodded agreement. "It was in my time as well," he said. "The Malfoy family has one too."

"Yes, about that Lucius, you may want to ask your son if he ever plans on returning the Malfoys' book. He's had it checked out since second year."

"I'll do that."

"About six months ago, I was doing some research on the Potters for some extra credit in History of Magic, and I came across the founders' books. I wouldn't have thought much of it, but what caught my attention was that Slytherin's book was not there. I asked Madam Pince about it, and she told me it had been moved to the Restricted Section. I didn't think much about it until I realized that there weren't supposed to be any more heirs of Slytherin. I mean, I could understand it if there were; no offense intended, Tom, but look what happened with you. And that basilisk—" Harry shuddered. "But anyway, there weren't supposed to _be_ anymore heirs, so what would the harm be if people found out who the heirs were, right? But there wasn't much I could do about it at the time, so I let it go. Then _this_ year, I found out I'm Head Boy. Full access to the Restricted Section. Already at Hogwarts for the summer. So I looked it up." Harry took a breath and opened the green and silver book to the last page. "Here's you, Tom," he said, pointing. "And here's me."

* * *

A/N: Alright, I know, I haven't even touched this story in years and years and _years_. But I was looking through my account page earlier (another thing I haven't done in years) and I noticed that I was still getting hits and visitors (still haven't figured out the difference there), so I figured I'd at least make an attempt at reviving it. No guarantees there won't be some major changes in the pipeline, but I'll try to keep it as true to what little is already there as possible. Working on fixing some typos that I'm still not sure how they happened, then will move on to new chapters.


	3. Discovery of Inheritance

_Chapter 2: Discovery of Inheritance_

_Last Chapter:_

Harry took a breath and opened the green and silver book to the last page. "Here's you, Tom," he said, pointing. "And here's me."

* * *

Silence reigned supreme for what seemed like ages, as Tom and Lucius stared at the page in Slytherin's family book.

After a long time, Lucius said, "Well, that's interesting. But what, may I ask, does this have to do with us?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy black hair. "I'm tired of Dumbledore not telling me things. He's trying to use me to get rid of all of you, and yet he doesn't tell me things that I need to know in order to do it. I won't take it anymore. I won't sit around and risk my life for a man who sees me as a pawn, and a world that sees nothing but the Boy-Who-Lived, to be loved or hated at their whim."

Tom's eyes widened. "Are you offering to become a Death Eater?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. I am offering you my loyalty. I am offering to join you as an equal. I won't kiss the hem of your robes and call you 'Lord', but I'll help you out. After all, family should stick together, no?"

"Indeed," Tom said thoughtfully. "What's the other book?"

"Gryffindor's book," Harry said, placing it on the table.

"Why in Merlin's name would we be interested in the Heirs of Gryffindor?" Lucius sneered.

Harry grinned wolfishly. "There are currently two," he replied, opening the book. "One of them is me. The other one..." he trailed off, finger tapping on a name at the bottom of the page.

"Well, well," Tom murmured. "It seems that you are not the only one Dumbledore has been lying to."

"And this is a _most_ grievous crime," Lucius added, eyeing the names above it. "Withholding the knowledge that one is a pureblood from a witch? And a Zabini no less...I wonder what our dear Guerra will have to say about that."

"Guerra?" Harry prompted.

"Zabini," Lucius said. "Blaise Zabini's father."

"Ah. Right," Harry said. "Anyway, if I know 'Mione, she'll be furious when she finds out. She hates not knowing anything. We may have an ally...if we can prove it to her." He looked at Tom.

"I see. Lucius, see if you can dig up adoption records for the girl. It might help."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now, about _you_, Mr. Potter—" Tom started.

"Harry."

"Very well, _Harry_. I presume you have no wish to stay with Dumbledore?"

"I wouldn't have all of my things with me if I did," Harry said calmly.

Tom chuckled at this; Lucius looked at him in apprehension. Voldemort only laughed when someone was about to be in pain...or dead. "True, true," Tom said. "I'm sure Lucius wouldn't mind you living here, would you Lucius?"

"No, my Lord," the blonde murmured. Harry snorted inwardly. As if he would say anything else.

"Good," Tom said. "I think you should teach him to duel properly as well."

"I know how to duel!" Harry protested.

"We'll see," Tom smirked. "You'll also need to make a trip to Diagon Alley," he added, eyeing Harry's clothes. "You are in dire need of a new wardrobe."

"Isn't that the truth," Harry muttered.

Tom ignored that. "I believe that's all. Lucius, can you think of anything else?"

"I don't think so, my Lord."

"Very well. Harry, do you want to get settled now?" Harry nodded. "I'll see you later then."

"Until then, cousin," Harry said, taking his books and heading towards the door.

"Until then."

* * *

An hour later, Harry was looking around his room in Malfoy Manor with satisfaction. The walls were deep emerald green, the ceiling textured black. The cherry hardwood floor was covered with black and crimson rugs, and the lighting in the room left strangely comforting shadows in the corners. There was a separate lamp on the large mahogany desk, so Harry could see as he worked. The large four poster bed was draped with dark green and crimson. The mahogany wardrobe was currently empty, awaiting the new clothes Tom had promised him.

"This is so not fair," Draco said, striding into the room. "Your room is nicer than mine, and it's _my_ house!"

Harry arced an eyebrow at the blonde. "I'm Voldemort's cousin. Are you saying that I'm not worthy?" he said archly.

"Of course not," Draco said unflinchingly. "I'm just saying it's not fair."

Harry laughed. "I take it your father explained things to you?"

"Yes, he did. Told me to get you some proper clothes so that we can go shopping today."

"Thank all the gods," Harry muttered. "I hate these clothes."

"Why didn't you ever buy new ones before," Draco asked curiously. "I always wondered why a Potter would go around dressed like that."

"I was living with my aunt and uncle," Harry explained, following the blonde teenager to his room. "They would have destroyed any decent clothes that I had. I'm lucky they didn't burn my robes." Harry looked at Draco curiously. "And what do you mean you don't know why a Potter would dress like this? I mean, sure, I've got money, but no where near as much as, say, _you_."

"Pretty damn close," Draco said. Harry stared at him and he threw up his hands in exasperation. "Don't tell me they didn't tell you!" There was a shake of a raven-haired head and Draco cried, "Merlin's _bollocks_!"

"Draco!" Lucius said sharply, coming into the room. "I trust there is a good explanation for your language?"

"There is. Potter here," Draco said, pointing at Harry. "Has no idea that he's absolutely _loaded_!"

"Would someone mind telling me what you're raving about," Harry snapped irritably.

"Look," Draco said, grabbing a book from his shelf and shoving it into Harry's hands.

Harry looked down at the book. The cover read, _Powerful Families of Wizarding Europe_. He flipped to the first chapter, which was on the Malfoys. _Figures_, Harry thought, flipping to the next chapter. His jaw dropped.

_Probably the second most powerful family in Wizarding Europe is the Potter family. Almost as wealthy as the Malfoy family, the Potters have a history of prudence with their finances. Their fortune is more from this history, coupled with a tendency to hold steady jobs, than from the numerous investments that the Potters hold..._The book went on to give a list of prominent figures connected with the Potter family, and a list of places where the Potters had been known to frequent.

"Holy shite," Harry murmured as he realized how much money he had..._somewhere_. "There is no where near this much money in my vault, Lucius."

"My guess is that your current vault is the trust fund your parents will have set up for you when you were born."

"And I was never told this?" Harry growled angrily.

"I guess not. That truly is despicable."

"Don't voice agreement for my every emotion, Lucius. I'm not Tom. Save that for your master."

Draco shuddered. "Gods, now _there's_ a though. Two of my Lord?"

Harry snorted. "They'd be at each other's throats constantly," he said. "Back to the issue at hand, Lucius, is there a way to get me access to the Potter vaults before the end of July?"

"I'm sure I could pull it off. And since you obviously did not know, I'll also let you in on another little secret. All of the founders' money has been sitting in the vaults, largely untouched, for years. If you can prove that you are a founder's heir, the Ministry will set you up with a key to his vault."

Harry's eyes widened considerably. "That is a _lot_ of money," he breathed.

Lucius chuckled. "Yes it is. Would you like to get that set up?" Harry nodded. "You're going to have to come to the Ministry with me. And I am _not_ going to take you dressed like _that_."

Harry shot him a scathing look and shot back, "I'd like to see you try to keep nice clothes at my aunt and uncle's house." He turned to Draco expectantly, and was rewarded a few minutes later with a pair of slate-gray slacks, a black button down shirt, and high-shine dragon leather boots. "Thanks Draco," he said, and went down the hall to change.

* * *

They took the Malfoy's carriage, unfortunately. It was unfortunate because the ride from Malfoy Manor to the Ministry of Magic in London was a two-hour trip.

During the trip, Harry tried to think of a way to avoid outwardly alienating Dumbledore. It took him an hour and a half, but he hit on a plan that could work.

"Lucius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Question: Would it be enough of an advantage to bother to make it seem as if I'm still on Dumbledore's side?"

Lucius looked thoughtful. "Maybe. It depends on what reasons you have in mind."

Harry smirked. "We can take Hogwarts—without having to shut it down, and without a battle."

The blonde's eyes widened. "How?"

"I'm a dual heir. If I am in the castle at midnight on my birthday this year, the wards are mine. The castle will bond with me, and Dumbledore won't be able to do anything to stop it."

"How will you explain your absence? You've been gone long enough for them to have noticed already, and the fact that your trunk isn't there either makes it slightly suspicious," Lucius pointed out.

"Oh that's easy," Harry replied. "I told them I went shopping. If they ask about my trunk, I'll tell them I took it with me to carry my things."

Lucius blinked at him. "They'll believe that?"

"Lucius, I'm surprised at you. Isn't your family one of the ones that always says Dumbledore will believe anything the Golden Boy says? Snape might not believe it, but that is either inconsequential, or Snape will die. It depends on which side he is truly spying for."

"That is true. That is a good idea you have. The only thing now is how to go about freeing your accounts without arousing suspicion."

Harry waved a hand idly. "It's not really necessary. My birthday is in a month—I can wait. Besides, I'm about to get shares from the Gryffindor _and_ Slytherin vaults. I'm bloody rich without the Potter vaults."

"Alright then." They arrived at the Ministry and Lucius waved Harry out of the carriage. "You're going to have to go without me if you want to make it seem like you're still in Dumbledore's pocket. Go ahead. Meet me at Borgin and Burkes at half past one."

"Alright. I'll see you later, Lucius."

* * *

A/N: Chapter revised. The next two may have some pretty big changes to them.


	4. Inheritance Uncovered

_Chapter 3 – Inheritance Uncovered_

As luck would have it, Harry ran into Mr. Weasley on his way out of the Ministry.

"Why hello, Harry. What are you doing here?" he asked kindly.

"Hello Mr. Weasley. I was just getting a couple of my bank vaults opened. This year is my year."

The redheaded patriarch of the Weasley clan chuckled. "That's understandable, I suppose. Where are you headed now?"

"I was going to Floo to Diagon Alley and do some shopping," Harry replied.

"Is that wise?"

"It doesn't matter. I can easily defend myself, and after this last year, the Death Eaters are avoiding me."

Mr. Weasley shuddered, remembering the bloody battle that had taken place throughout the dungeons of Hogwarts the year before. It had taken weeks to find all of the bodies, and some were only discovered by scent as they decomposed. At least half of those maimed or killed had Harry's mark on them; the letters HJP branded into the skin of the forehead, with the combined Potter and Black crests beneath. It had been slightly disconcerting to find Harry doing something so close to the concept of the Dark Mark, but Dumbledore would hear none of it without proof that Harry was indeed turning. Luckily, there really wasn't any evidence of this, so the brands were looked at as Harry simply becoming ruthless to his enemies.

"Alright Harry," Mr. Weasley said, stepping off the lift. "But be careful."

Harry flashed the man a winning smile, turned slightly animalistic by the long canines that marked him as a vampire. "I always am, Mr. Weasley."

As Harry rode to the ground floor, he ran his tongue over his teeth, remembering how he got them. It had been in the battle in the dungeons that he had been bitten by a High Vampire as he was marking the body of Rodolphus LeStrange. Fortunately for Harry, he knew how to avoid dying from a vampire bite: bite the vampire back. He still had no idea how Tom had managed to get a vampire into Hogwarts, just as he had no idea how the Death Eaters had gotten in.

In a way, he was grateful for his vampirism. It had saved him from a good number of beatings at the Dursleys', as his heightened hearing could pick up sounds from down the street, making it insanely easy for him to hear Vernon coming from down the hall. His improved eyesight made it so he could do his homework at night without a light, and the almost superhuman strength made it so the chores Petunia gave him were easy to accomplish as well. His vampirism also allowed him safe passage through the Forbidden Forest; no animal was stupid enough to attack a High Vampire.

The world had had mixed feelings about Harry's turn. He had decided that it would be better to come out with it then, rather than having some reporter dig the information up later. The entirety of the school, with the exception of most of the Gryffindors, had been apprehensive around Harry for the last weeks of school, following the battle. Everyone, even the Gryffindors, had avoided upsetting him, as no one wanted to deal with an angry vampire, High or Low. Even Snape, who had been roped into brewing the special sun-tan lotion Harry used, had lessened his terrorizing of Harry. After a particularly interesting Potions lesson, in which the green-eyed vampire got in Snape's face for scaring Neville almost to tears, he had lightened up on the other Gryffindors as well. However, while no one wanted to risk angering the not-boy, there were those who had no problems baiting him. It was their taunting that had driven Harry to garner full control of his emotions, to avoid seriously injuring a person without full intentions of it.

Harry bared his teeth in another animalistic grin as he stepped onto the ground floor. There were days when he was seriously tempted.

He Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, Ministry-sealed documents in hand, and checked his watch. It was only 12:30, an hour until he had to meet Lucius, so he decided to check out the vaults that he now had access to.

Upon reading the documents from the Magical Inheritance department, the goblin went to the back with a gruff, "Wait here." A few minutes later, he came back and escorted Harry to a back room.

An old goblin with a jewel-encrusted walking stick was waiting for him. "Hello, Mr. Potter," he greeted amiably. "My name is Dracleave. I am the Head of the Gringotts branch in London."

Wondering what was going on, Harry gave the goblin a polite nod and said, "Pleased to meet you."

Dracleave nodded and waved him over to a table with two chairs and refreshments. "Please, Mr. Potter, have a seat. We have things to discuss."

Harry sat down, wondering if the clerk had given him false documents, and if he had, what he was going to do to said clerk.

"It has been a long time since an heir of Gryffindor has come forward. In fact, none of the Gryffindor vaults have been touched since the name itself died out, almost 800 years ago. You are truly a rich man, Mr. Potter.

"As far as the Slytherin vaults, as you know, Tom Riddle acquired access to them just over 50 years ago, but once again, the Slytherin died out and those vaults have been largely untouched for about 500 years. That very fact means that while Tom Riddle did have a habit of hosting lavish parties and such in his younger years, there are still billions of galleons in the main vault. You could run the Ministry of Magic with the interest from one month. The same and more goes for the Gryffindor vaults."

It took Harry a moment to recover from the word 'billions,' and then the words 'main vault' and 'Gryffindor _vaults_' registered.

"Vaults? As in plural?" he said, relieved that his voice didn't shake—much.

"Well yes, of course. For each family, there are the main vault, heir vault, child vault, charity vault, and various others with furniture and books and magical objects. The list goes on," the goblin explained patiently, waving a hand vaguely. "Your Potter inheritance will be much the same."

The raven haired wizard gulped and checked his watch. He was surprised to note that their talk had taken just over half an hour; he needed to go meet Lucius. Thinking rapidly, he came to a decision.

"Maybe it would be better if I saw these vaults myself," he said. "However, I have an appointment in twenty minutes. May I come back later? I would appreciate it if you were the one to show them to me."

"Of course, Mr. Potter."

"Very well. I may have Lucius Malfoy with me when I return."

"Very well. Here are your keys for the Gryffindor and Slytherin vaults, respectively." He handed Harry two key rings, each with fifteen to twenty skeleton keys on it.

"Thank you, Dracleave."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Potter."

The goblin showed Harry out.

* * *

"Hello Lucius."

"Hello Harry," the blonde replied. "Where are you coming from?"

"A meeting at Gringotts," Harry said.

"I take it Dracleave wished to brief you on the contents of the vaults before you actually saw them. Knowing you, you'll probably pass out when you see them, even with the warning."

"And I suppose you are used to seeing billions of galleons in one place," Harry drawled.

"I used to extract funds from the Slytherin main vault for my Lord before the end of the first reign," Lucius replied simply.

"Well in that case, you can be there to catch me," Harry said briskly. "Coming? Oh, can you possibly put a glamour on yourself? Me walking around with you, willingly, not hexing the shit out of you or vice versa, would not look good to Dumbledore."

"How about I do an invisibility spell?" Lucius suggested. "That way you don't have to worry about explaining the presence of another person."

"That's a good idea. Just keep a hand on me so I know you're there." Lucius cast the spell and they headed towards Gringotts.

When they got there, they exchanged pleasantries with Dracleave—after a short confrontation with the clerk, who didn't believe they were actually expected—and got down to business.

"Before we go to the vaults, Mr. Potter," the goblin said. "There are a few technicalities to deal with. As you know, Tom Riddle claimed the proprietary position over the Slytherin vaults, years ago. However, with his current status as fugitive—" there were twin snorts from Harry and Lucius, "—you have the right to claim it back from him. Do you wish to do this?"

Harry considered. "If someone asks, are you required to answer truthfully?" he asked.

Dracleave smirked. "In the event of an inquiry, Gringotts either says no comment, or whatever you tell us to."

Harry nodded. "In that case, let's make it so that Tom and I are joint proprietors, still with Lucius here being able to get in. If anyone asks, I took full rights."

Lucius nodded. "Very political of you, Harry," he commended.

"That's only temporary, of course," the vampire added. "As of my birthday—that is, one week from today—the response should revert back to no comment."

Dracleave nodded, but Lucius looked confused. "One week?" he asked. "You said earlier it was in a month."

Harry smirked. "Either you have been left seriously out of the loop, or you are being an imbecile," he said. "I'm a High Vampire. We age differently. It's my birthday in a vampire month—a human week."

"Oh."

Harry laughed at the simple answer. Lucius glared at him, which only caused him to laugh harder. When he got a hold of himself, he said, "You should lose composure more often, Lucius. Takes ten years off your face."

Lucius scowled. "Thank you, Mr. 'I-age-four-times-faster-than-every-one-else'"

"Ooo...Lucius is quick," Harry shot back. "And actually, the four-times-faster bit doesn't happen until just before the seventeenth birthday. Vampire children age normally."

Lucius looked like he was going to say something, but Dracleave interrupted, "If you two lovers have no objections, there are things to do today." The men calmed down, though Lucius looked alarmed at the idea of being Harry's lover.

"Now Mr. Potter, I take it you will want to take proprietary rights for the Gryffindor vaults?" the goblin asked.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Very well. Now, which of the vaults would you like to visit first?"

"Gryffindor main vault, please. I need money."

The goblin snapped and a door appeared, leading to a round room with vaults on all sides.

"These are the Gryffindor vaults," Dracleave explained, taking the ring of Gryffindor keys from Harry. He went over to one of the doors and opened it. Harry quite nearly fainted; even Lucius paled.

"Wow," Harry managed to squeak. "I...um...wow."

"This is more money than was every in the Slytherin vault," Lucius said in awe.

"It's been just sitting longer, gathering interest," Harry told him. "How much is it, exactly?"

"86,964,379,872,468 galleons, 20 sickles, and a knut," Dracleave said immediately. "It will collect roughly 7 trillion galleons in interest next month."

Harry turned to Lucius and clapped him on the back, saying, "I hope you enjoyed your time as the richest man in Europe...that's not on the run from the Ministry, that is."

The man gave Harry a sour look, but the effect was dimmed by the fact that his face was still white.

Harry laughed and added, "You wouldn't happen to have picked up my trunk from the Manor, would you?" Lucius handed the shrunken trunk to him, which he unshrunk and dug his money bag out of. After filling the bag to the brim, (which was quite a lot, as the bag was charmed to hold much more than it appeared), he reshrunk the trunk.

"I'll look at the other vaults later. Right now I want to see any magical items you think might be useful, Dracleave."

The goblin sniffed disdainfully at the order, but snapped his fingers. A huge trunk appeared between him and Harry.

"This trunk holds all of the items you might find useful. The ones that are merely interesting are still in the vaults. You can look at them later."

"Last thing. Can I get an inventory of everything in these vaults?"

"It is already in the trunk, Mr. Potter, along with manuscripts on most of the items in there."

"Thank you." Harry shrunk the trunk and pocketed it.

Dracleave led them back to the room they started in and Lucius resumed his invisibility. The two left the bank and spent the rest of the day repairing the tattered state of Harry's wardrobe.

* * *

A/N: Chapter revised, but I think I may have missed some things.


	5. Change of Heart

_Chapter 4 - Change of Heart_

Harry Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts just as dinner was starting in the Great Hall. Before he could take a single step in the direction of the castle, he was grabbed and spun around to stare into the face of a _very_ angry Severus Snape.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" he demanded. "Albus was worried that you had been kidnapped!"

Harry scowled and jerked his arm free of Snapes grasp. "I made three stops today," he said angrily. "The Ministry of Magic, Gringotts, and Madam Malkins. Now if you'll _excuse me_, I was on my way to tell all of this to the Headmaster." He started up the slope, Snape lengthening his strides to catch up.

"Why in Hades were you at the Ministry?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "It was the first stop in ensuring that Voldemort cannot access the Slytherin vaults at Gringotts."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "How did you do that?"

"I took the proprietorship of them and the Gryffindor vaults."

"You have to be of Slytherin blood to do that."

"I _am_ of Slytherin blood," Harry said over-patiently.

Snape stopped in his tracks. "Youre a dual heir?"

"Yes." Harry didnt slow down.

"Cripes boy, the Dark Lord would do just about anything to get you on his side if he knew."

"He tried that in my first year. I obviously told him no." Snape continued to follow him, until Harry stopped and turned to face the man. "Professor, can I do something for you? Otherwise, I would appreciate it if you stopped bugging me. I have things to do today, and I need to speak with the Headmaster." Harry waited a moment, giving the gaping Potions Master a chance to speak, then he stalked off to find Dumbledore.

The voice from the other side of the door was weary as it said, "Come in." When Harry stepped into the Headmasters office a look of immense relief came over Dumbledores face.

"Im told you were worried for me, Headmaster," Harry said.

"Where have you been child? We had people combing Diagon Alley for you since lunch," the old man said.

"Well," Harry said. "I stopped by the Leaky Cauldron for dinner. Before that, I was at Madam Malkins for three hours, getting decent clothes. Before that, I was in Gringotts after stopping by the Ministry."

A look of alarm flitted over Dumbledores face at the mention of Harry stopping by the Ministry, but it was brief. "Why were you at the Ministry?"

"I was arranging to acquire access to the Gryffindor and Slytherin vaults at Gringotts. Voldemort no longer has access to the Slytherin vaults."

Dumbledores eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "I doubt he was going into them anyway, Harry," he said. "It would be too dangerous for him."

"True," Harry replied. "But according to Dracleave, he had allowed Lucius Malfoy access to them so _he_ could get money for his Lord."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore mused. "Well, I'm glad you stopped that. You said you already ate?"

"Yes, sir, I did."

"Very well. I'm glad you're safe, even if you were all along."

Harry knew a dismissal when he heard one. He bade the Headmaster goodbye and headed back to his rooms to look through the Gryffindor trunk.

Harry spent the rest of the week with both the contents of the Gryffindor trunk and the book he had bought from Borgin & Burkes that day, which was the only Dark Arts book he currently owned. It seemed that the rumours that Godric Gryffindor was vehemently opposed to the Dark Arts were true.

No Dark Arts aside, Harry did have the entire library of the entire Gryffindor family in the trunk, not counting what was still in Gryffindors private rooms in Hogwarts. He spent three whole days solely on cataloging his collection.

The trunk itself was a masterpiece. It had more enchantments on it that Godric Gryffindor's sword. It allowed the owner to create multiple compartments, each with seemingly unlimited space. It had a notice-me-not charm on it so strong you had to look for it even if you knew it was there. The wards on it were keyed to the owner, and could only be brought down by someone the owner allowed to access it. Of course, it had the standard feather-light charm so it would adjust to the carriers strength. Best of all was a charm that made it turn into a carryall at a word—Harry could take it to classes with him.

Inside the trunk, Dracleave had put all of the books in one compartment, scrolls in another, instructional manuals in another, clothing items in another, and trinkets in yet another. Harry found a number of useful things in the last two, including a set of invisibility _robes_ (now he didnt have to worry about having an arm sticking out of his cloak), a Thestral skin cloak (almost impenetrable and invisible to anyone who couldnt see Thestrals themselves), and, perhaps best of all, the wand of every Gryffindor who ever laid claim to the vaults.

He spent a good deal of time thinking about his loyalty. He really wasn't sure what the final straw was that made him seek out Tom. He figured he should probably keep his head down until he figured himself out. It would probably be easier to acquire information if he let everyone think he was on the side of the Light, anyway. Besides, he didn't really want to give up Ron's friendship, and just coming out and saying, "I'm with Voldemort" was one sure way to do that, no matter what the reason.

Thursday morning dawned bright and early. Much to his displeasure, Harry was already awake. Snape had woken him from the fireplace in his rooms, shouting at him to get up and go to the Headmaster's office. It wasn't the 'you're gong to get expelled' shout, but the 'you're needed to plan to save the world' shout. Harry had gotten up and gotten dressed to go find out second-hand what Tom had been up to.

And that is why Harry was currently trotting down the corridor to the stone gargoyle, wondering what was so bad that it would make Snape so frantic. It did not even cross his mind that the reaction meant that Snape was a traitor to Tom.

When he reached the gargoyle, it jumped out of the way before he even said anything. Shaking his head, Harry walked up the spiraling staircase, not waiting for it to take him up.

The office door was open. The moment Harry stepped through the door, a large brown-haired object barreled into him, almost knocking him back down the stairs.

"Oh god, Harry," Hermione sobbed. "He killed them. That bastard killed them!"

Harry put his arms around her sobbing form and looked questioningly at the Headmaster over her shoulder. Dumbledore looked every bit his age, the twinkle in his eyes almost nonexistent.

"Sir? Whats going on?" Harry asked, leading the crying girl over to sit on a couch. "All I know is that Voldemort attacked the Granger's house, killed Mr. & Mrs. Granger, and left Hermione with a letter for you," the old man sighed. "And..."

"Sir?" Harry prompted when he did not continue.

"He attacked the Dursleys as well."

Cold rage bubbled up inside of Harry. _What part of 'family should stick together' didn't that moronic inbreed get? _he thought, not realizing that the Headmaster's numerous trinkets had started to shake. "Let me see the letter," he growled, fangs bared. Dumbledore handed it over and Harry opened it and began to read.

"Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday. Enclosed you will find some documents that you would find interesting. The boy is yours to do with as you please.

Tom"

Harry looked in the envelope and drew out Hermione's adoption records, and the Death Certificates of Carlos Zabini and Maria Potter. The cause of death was listed as casualties in a battle in Diagon Alley at the close of the last war. He sighed and replaced them.

"What boy, sir?" he asked eventually.

"That would probably be me, Potter," a small , lost voice said from the corner. Harry looked over to see his cousin Dudley sitting in a chair, looking tired and strained.

"Dudley? How are you here? Youre not supposed to be able to see the place, much less come in."

"I believe I can answer that, Harry," Dumbledore said. "It seems that there is a power repressing charm on him. His name was on the Hogwarts register, but it didn't make a letter for him. Unless we remove the charm, he is, in all effects, a squib."

"What's going on, Potter?" Dudley asked, voice surprisingly free of malice. "Why didn't that bastard kill me?"

Before Harry could answer, Snape stalked in, holding a vial of potion that Harry knew very well.

"Mr. Dursley," he said shortly. "You need sleep."

"Professor," Harry said. "He can sleep in my rooms."

Snape looked to Dumbledore, who nodded. "Very well, Potter," he said, handing the vial to Harry. "You know how to administer them, as much time as you spend in the hospital wing. I have things to do, so if you'll all excuse me..."

"Severus," Dumbledore said. "Will you come for tea later?" Snape nodded and left. "Mr. Dursley," he started.

"Don't call me that," Dudley interrupted. "Please. Mr. Dursley is..._was_ my dad."

Dumbledore nodded. "In any case, I know you have questions, but for now why don't you go get some sleep, then we can talk when you wake? I'll answer your questions then."

Dudley looked about to object, but Harry said, "C'mon Dud. Lets get you to bed." He looked at Hermione. "Are you going to be alright? Do you want to come get some rest?"

"I think I'll sleep," she whispered.

Harry nodded. "Alright. Come on. I'll be back in a little bit, Headmaster. I need to talk to you." Harry led Hermione and Dudley to his rooms on the ground floor. As they walked, Harry looked at the vial Snape had given him. The color was a bit off, a little more red than it should have been. The texture was wrong, too. Harry sniffed the potion and snorted.

"What?" Dudley asked.

"You've been through enough today." Harry told him. "You're not taking this."

"But that big bat said it would help me sleep," Dudley objected.

Harry laughed at his description of the snarky Potions Master. "True enough, but if you take these potions, you'll find yourself rather...uncomfortable." At Dudleys look, he said, "He was pretty mad when I got here. Took all of us and a direct order from Dumbledore to keep him from going after you all himself."

"Oh," the larger boy said. "How will I sleep, then? I don't think I can without help," he admitted.

"I'll be giving you and Hermione some potion I brewed for myself. Same thing minus the pain."

"How do I know you won't poison me?"

"Snape is more likely to poison you than I am," Harry told him.

When they got into his rooms, Harry lowered the wards and led Hermione to his bed. After going to retrieve two vials of Dreamless Sleep Potion, he gave one to Hermione and tucked her in, laying a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Dudley asked as Harry took him to the guest room.

"No," Harry replied. "She's my best friend."

"Why didn't that guy kill me, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know, Dud. C'mon. Bed with you."

"Why are you being so nice?" the other boy asked as he laid down.

"I know what it's like to lose my parents," Harry said simply. He handed Dudley the potion.

"What am I going to do, Harry?" he asked, not taking the potion. "I don't have any money or anything."

"Youre going to take that potion and go to sleep," Harry ordered. "And don't worry about money. I've got more than enough for both of us." He stood there while Dudley took the light blue potion, then took the vial and headed out to the main room.

Taking a pinch of Floo powder, Harry threw it on the fire, stuck his head in the fire, and yelled, "Severus Snape!"

"Professor," he called. Snape appeared in the doorway, scowling. "Can you go to the Headmaster's office please? I need to talk to both of you."

"I'm busy, Potter," Snape snapped.

"It's important, sir," Harry insisted.

The dark man sighed. "Fine. Ill be there in a few minutes," he growled, and stalked off.

In the Headmasters office, Harry took a deep breath and looked at his hands. "Headmaster," he began. "I Obliviated you today."

"WHAT!" Snape squawked. "You miserable, _ungrateful_ little fool! Do you know what you could have-"

"Severus, please," Dumbledore said sternly, holding up a wrinkled hand. "I would like to hear what Mr. Potter has to say." Harry flinched at the Headmaster's use of his last name.

"Well sir," he started again. "I came up here to ask you some questions earlier about what I found in the Founders' books. They told me that I am the Heir of both Gryffindor, on my father's side, and Slytherin, from my mother."

"Your mother was Muggleborn, boy," Snape sneered.

"Severus." The warning was clear in Dumbledore's voice. Snape grumbled but went quiet, folding his hands into his sleeves and clenching his jaw.

"However," Harry went on. "I don't think I was really in the right state of mind to hear your answers. I don't even know why I was so mad. I mean, sure, it steams me that you would withhold such an important part of my heritage when you _know_ I've been grasping for it for the last six years, but this was - I don't even know how to describe it. It was like the rage was in my _blood_, and it was so strong..." Caught as he was in his introspection, Harry didn't notice the alarmed look Snape gave him.

"Harry," the Headmaster said gently, causing the raven haired young man to look up. Dumbledore's eyes caught and held his, and suddenly he knew somehow that he was already forgiven. "I remember every single moment I've experienced in this office."

"But...but I _Obliviated_ you!" Harry protested. "You sat right there and asked me what I was needed, like you had no idea that I had been screaming at you like a banshee for the last ten minutes! How...?" He trailed off, bewildered.

"It's a little known fact, Harry, but Godric Gryffindor charmed this office so that none of the mind magics work inside these walls," the old wizard told him. "The Obliviate spell, though it came centuries after his death, is most certainly a mind magic."

"But then why did you let me go?" Harry asked, more confused than ever. "Why would you just let me rage at you and walk out and not do anything to stop me?"

"Would it have helped?"

This caught Harry off guard. "Huh?" he asked eloquently.

"Would it have helped?" Dumbledore asked insistently. "I seem to remember a younger version of yourself doing his best to destroy my office the last time I locked you in. And, as you said, you were not particularly in the mood for answers." He sighed, suddenly looking older than Harry had ever seen him. "I told you once that we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy. It is something I have said many times, to many people, Harry, but it still holds true. It would have been easy for me, a powerful wizard with a hundred and fifty years of experience over you, to keep you in this office, sit you down, and make you listen. But it would not have been right. You are a young man coming into your own as a powerful wizard in your own right, and sooner or later you must make your own decisions. I hoped you would eventually come back to me, but it was not my place to try and make you stay." After giving Harry a moment to process that, he asked gently, "Harry? Where did you go?"

Harry suddenly found one of the trinkets on Dumbledore's desk very interesting. "I, um, I - that is..." he stammered.

"Spir it out, boy," Snape growled impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, Harry resigned himself to the truth. "I went to Lucius Malfoy," he said sheepishly. Snape choked; Dumbledore sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

"And what did you and Lord Malfoy discuss?"

Feeling more foolish by the moment, Harry explained his exchange with Malfoy and Voldemort, then told them about Gringotts. By the time he got to the end, Snape was looking like Harry had just announced that Santa Claus was to officiate at his marriage to the Easter bunny, and Dumbledore was shaking his head sorrowfully. When he was done, Harry said, "I don't know what possessed me to go to them, because I sure as hell don't want to be _like_ them, but I'm not going to sit by and watch him destroy my friends' lives, family or not."

The Headmaster stared at him silently for a long moment, the twinkle coming back into his eyes ever so slowly. "I'm glad you realize that the world is not black and white," he said. "I hope you'll accept my advice at times, though."

"I may," Harry said. "Right now, though, I'm going back to bed. Can we take the charm off Dudley when he wakes up?"

When Dumbledore nodded, the you man excused himself and left, Snape following.

"Did your cousin take the potion, Potter?" he asked.

"No."

Snape blinked. "He wouldn't take it?"

"No," Harry replied. "I gave him one of mine, sir. Nice try."

When Harry got back to his rooms, he laid down on his bed next to Hermione, and was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.

* * *

A/N: Okay guys, some pretty big changes in this one - most notably more elaboration on the conversation between Harry and Dumbledore. A lot of people were confused on that. I remember changing my mind in the middle of chapter four, oh, about six years ago or something along those lines, and upon returning (finally), I decided I'd go with Dark but not Evil Harry (you'll see where the Dark part comes in in the next chapter, as well as some explanation for Harry's behavior of late).

To answer some questions some people have asked over the years I've been away,

1. This is NOT H/Hr. Hermione is Harry's _cousin, _in case you missed that by Maria Zabini nee Potter's death certificate that Voldy sent with Mione.I don't know how you folks do it across the pond, but I'm NOT from Arkansas, and I don't dig the cousins shacking up thing and I'm certainly not depraved enough to write it into my fic. My kids could read this one day, thank you.

2. As far as Lucius' manners, I think he would be polite, if slightly mocking, in public, if only to maintain the front of upstanding, law-abiding citizen. After that, I'd say everyone's interest and curiosity was piqued.

3. This will NOT be slash. I'm not positive its going to have any primary ship at all. It's just not that kind of story (by that I mean the kind of story where the hero says, "I have to save the world! BUT - I'm going to ravish this beautiful woman here first!"

4. Blaise isn't Hermione's brother, he's a cousin.

I hope to have the next chapter up soon, I've been mapping it out in my head all day (yes, even at work).


	6. Of Wards and Wizards

_Chapter 5 - Of Wards and Wizards_

Late that afternoon, Harry woke up to find himself in empty rooms. A glance at the clock told him it was approaching five o'clock and he groaned, knowing that he would have hell getting to sleep that night. Stretching lazily, the raven haired teen contemplated what he still needed to do that evening. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation with Hermione, but he knew it needed to be done. He remembered the feeling of having to find out about his heritage on his own, and the pain and anger of realizing Dumbledore had kept even this from him. He frowned deeply, feeling the rage start to course through his veins. Viciously clamping down on the emotion, Harry rose and looked around his room.

When he had first come to Hogwarts that summer, he had, at first, been housed in the Gryffindor dorms. After Madam Pomfrey released him from the Infirmary, that is. It had very quickly become obvious that the House of Gryffindor was no longer the place for him. At first, Harry hadn't understood the broken glass in the middle of the night, the torn bedcurtains when he woke up, or the fireplace that just got hotter when he tried to put it out at night, but now he suspected that his approaching majority, combined with his newly discovered Slytherin heritage, hadn't sat very well in the House of Lions.

So they looked for somewhere else to house him. Though he was to be Head Boy this year, the Head Boy's private room was in Gryffindor Tower, which wouldn't solve the problem at all. They had finally settled on a suite in one of the less used portions of the castle. The area was once used for long term visitors, and therefore was fairly accessible, but still far enough out of the school's normal pathways as to avoid interrupting classes. Snape had, of course, opposed this choice rather fiercely, but Dumbledore had kindly pointed out that Harry would need the privacy in the upcoming school year so he could get out to feed anyway. The reminder of Harry's vampirism had effectively silenced the surly Potions Master, who spent the next week looking as though he had swallowed one of his particularly foul concoctions.

Harry himself was really rather satisfied with the outcome. His new suite was basically a three bedroom flat, complete with kitchen. One of the rooms he had converted into a potions lab – he had no desire to risk contaminating his pantry with anything potentially lethal, nor did he want to blow up his kitchen in case anything went wrong. In the living room, decorated in muted shades of forest green and tarnished gold, his summer homework was spread out on his coffee table, and he could tell that Hermione had looked through it at least briefly.

He sighed, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. He needed to have that talk with her, and he wasn't looking forward to it. After all, it was his fault that the only parents she had ever known were murdered in front of her. He scrubbed his face with cold water, steeling himself against her reaction, and left his rooms.

* * *

The Great Hall always looked empty over the summer – it seemed almost desolate to Harry, except for the magic of the castle humming through the air. During the winter hols, the teachers were at least there, and a few students. Now however, with a mere seven occupants, it felt as though they were nothing more than a group of stragglers in a fortress far too large for their needs. The quiet of the hall was made louder by the echo of knives on porcelain. No one spoke, except when Professor Dumbledore greeted him. Professor Snape merely sneered at him and went back to his veal. The other two staff members present – Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout – ate quietly, as if knowing something was off with their dinner companions.

Harry, who wasn't very hungry, observed the occupants of the table. Professor Snape looked strained; it added ten years to his already potions-tired face. He stabbed his meat as though to kill it all over again. Harry resisted the urge to inform him that the butcher did this part for him and turned his attention to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore was gazing off into the distance, making Harry want to look over his shoulder to see what was so interesting. The old man had been chewing thoughtfully on the same bite of roast duck for the last ten minutes, hands folded peacefully in his lap, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. It was impossible to determine if the Headmaster was contemplating something as deep as the meaning of the universe, or simply appreciating the culinary genius of the Hogwarts house elves.

Turning his attention to his cousin, the raven haired teen decided he'd need to have a talk with Dudley soon as well. So far the other boy had seen magic that tried to turn him into a pig, and magic used to kill another. He was understandably twitchy. Harry thought about what kind of magics Dudley would like and decided to ask Flitwick to do a demonstration if he showed up soon. Charms were definitely up Dudley's alley, as was dueling, which was as close as wizards came to boxing. If the diminutive professor could teach Dudley how to float and how to defend himself, Harry could see the boy coming out of his shell much easier.

Turning to his right, Harry's heart broke to see Hermione looking like her world was over. Her intelligent brown eyes looked dead. "Hermione," he said quietly. She looked up morosely. "Can we talk?"

She sighed and nodded, beginning to gather her things, but Professor Dumbledore stopped her. "Ah, Miss Granger," he said brightly. "While I agree that you and Mr. Potter should talk, and very soon, I do have some information that he will undoubtedly wish to pass on to you in the course of your discussion. Would you mind terribly if an old man went first?" Hermione shook her head, smiling faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Perhaps you could show young Dudley around the castle?" the kindly wizard suggested. "I'm afraid I may monopolize quite a bit of Harry's time this evening."

Seeing Hermione's nod of agreement, Harry stood to go with the Headmaster, gripping his friend's shoulder briefly, trying to let her know he was there for her. He wondered when she would talk again. _Probably when she's cursing me for killing her parents, _he thought bitterly.

* * *

The walk to the Headmaster's office was silent; only Professor Snape's robes made any sound as they moved with the tall man's stride. Reaching the large round room, Harry was told to sit. The dour Potions Master took up a position beside the fireplace and crossed his arms, glaring forebodingly at him.

"I'm afraid you've put us in a bit of a tight spot, Harry," Professor Dumbledore began, folding his hands on his desk and watching Harry intently. "You are set to inherit the wards on this castle on your birthday, a feat which has not happened since 1447. Unfortunately, I can no longer allow this to happen—"

"What!" Harry gasped, sitting up straight.

"Never in the thousand year history of this school has a witch or wizard achieved the wards of Hogwarts whilst having anything but the best of intentions for _all_ the students of the school," Dumbledore declared solemnly. "With your actions yesterday, I cannot in good conscience allow you to take the wards from the Headmaster's seat. Not without proof of your intentions. My first duty is to my students."

Harry slumped. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Dumbledore was rejecting him? _Hogwarts_ was rejecting him? "I understand, Professor," he said, dejected.

"However," the old wizard continued. Harry perked up. "If you would be willing to be questioned under Veritaserum as to your motives and intentions, we can put this nasty business behind us."

"Absolutely, Professor!" Harry nodded vigorously, relieved that there was a solution to his problem.

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore exclaimed happily. "Severus, if you will?"

"Gladly, Headmaster," Snape said, sneering at Harry. Coming forward, the swarthy man reached into his robes and withdrew the little vial. Staring the man dead in the face, Harry stuck his tongue out for the potion.

_As far as acts of defiance go,_ he thought wryly. _This one is slightly childish._

Three drops fell onto his tongue and Harry felt all his worries disappear. He felt weightless, like he was floating in a cloud. Then the questions came.

"What is your name?" _Hmm…_ Harry's mind observed mildly. _This is almost like the Imperius Curse._

"Harry James Potter-Black."

"When were you born?" _I wonder if I could fight it off._

"July 31, 1980."

"Why did you seek out Tom Riddle?" _I didn't seek out _Riddle_, I sought out _Lucius_, _his mind corrected the questioner absently.

"I didn't."

"What!" Snape exclaimed, furious. "Headmaster, the boy has fought off the potion! He told us himself that he was with Riddle yesterday!" Harry just sat there with a dopey grin on his face.

"Severus, let me rephrase the question," Dumbledore said. "I believe I may have mixed up a fact or two. Harry, why did you seek out Lucius Malfoy?" _That one is right,_ Harry's detached mind agreed.

"I was angry."

"What were you angry about?" _I really want to know if I can break through this potion._

"I had just put together all the information you hid from me about my heritage."

"Do you think your anger was rational in reference to my actions?" _No, I need to get through this one under the potion._

"No."

"What are your intentions toward the students of this castle?" _Next time, I'll try to break it._

"I don't have any intentions at all toward most of them."

"What students do you have intentions toward?" _Well that's a bloody dumb question._

"Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Colin and Dennis Creevy, and Draco Malfoy."

"What are your intentions toward those students?" _This is just getting ridiculous._

"I intend to beat Ron Weasley in a game of wizard chess, I intend to take care of Hermione Granger, I intend to avoid Colin and Dennis Creevy, I intend to lock Draco Malfoy out of the loo for a day, I intend to make Draco Malfoy fly into the pitch, and I intend to knock the piss out of Draco Malfoy once before graduation." _So there._

"Well then, I think we're done," Dumbledore declared brightly, eyes twinkling madly. If Harry hadn't known any better, his muddled mind would have to decide that the old wizards eyes were laughing at him. "Severus?"

"One more question, Headmaster," the Potions Master said smoothly. "Potter, do you have any ill intentions toward myself or any other staff member or guest of this castle?"

"No." _Greasy git._

Seemingly satisfied, Snape poured a vial of potion down Harry's throat and Harry felt the cloud that had been holding him dissolve.

* * *

Dumbledore clapped his hands together happily. "Now that's taken care of," he said. "We need to talk about the wards." Harry leaned forward. "Your birthday comes in less than a week – that is, this coming Monday. Sunday night will likely be extremely painful for you, I'm sorry to say. On Sunday evening, you will need to take a ritual purification bath – it will remove any and all magic from your body. I would advise forgoing your special sun cream for the day. When you receive the wards, you must have no trace of magic on your skin or in your body. This means that anything you eat that day must be prepared by you, without magic, as any food that is cooked through magical means puts magic in your system. Should you receive the wards with magic in your system, it will be removed forcibly before you can fully bond with the castle. I'm told this is a very painful experience.

"We do have a ritual room specifically for the passing of the wards. It is not a requirement that you use this room, but it will make the process much shorter. Do not be surprised if, after your birthday, you sleep for up to five days – the Hogwarts wards are extremely complex and you must understand every aspect of them before you can wake. I will be locking down the castle the night before your birthday to guard against any attacks while you are asleep, since I will no longer be able to manipulate the wards after your birthday.

"There is only one more thing, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking over his glasses at the teen. "Before I will allow you to receive the wards I will require an Unbreakable Vow that you will work with the current Headmaster to protect the students and the school. There may come a time when I will need you to lock down the castle or set a new ward, and I must be assured of your cooperation."

"Of course, Headmaster," Harry said, seeing nothing wrong with this idea.

"Very well then. Severus? Would you mind terribly being our Bonder?" Dumbledore asked the man still standing in the shadows by the fireplace. Snape approached once again as Harry took Dumbledore's proffered hand; this time the dark man held his wand in his hand and placed it so it touched the junction between the two.

"Harry Potter, do you vow to maintain the Wards of Hogwarts to the best of your abilities?" the Headmaster demanded of Harry, his voice holding enough power as to rattle the windows in the office.

Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "I do," he responded, hoping he didn't sound like a lost little boy. A bright rope of flame shot out of Snape's wand and wound itself around their two hands.

"Do you promise, first and foremost, to protect the students of this school to the greatest extent you are able, whether the threat be outside the gates or within these very walls?"

"I do." Another rope of flame shot out of Snape's wand.

"Do you swear to cooperate with the Headmaster of Hogwarts to protect the castle with regards to Her wards, breaking from him or her only when it is in the best interests of the students of Hogwarts?"

"I do." A third rope of fire made their grasped hands practically glow.

"Finally, in the event that this office should ever become corrupted, do you swear to take up the mantle of the Headmaster and guide this school upon the path intended for it by the Lord and Lady Founders of Hogwarts?"

Eyes wide – Dumbledore hadn't mentioned _that_ part! – Harry croaked, "I do."

A fourth rope of brilliant shot out of Snape's wand to wrap tightly around Dumbledore's and Harry's combined hands.

"Your vow is accepted, So Mote It Be." There was a blinding flash, and what seemed like an explosion without sound. Harry's ears popped, and he was left blinking the color spots out of his eyes.

"Harry, before I leave you to talk with Professor Snape, I'd like to answer any questions you may have," Professor Dumbledore offered once Harry could see again.

"Do you know why I've been getting so angry lately, Professor?" Harry asked honestly. "Nothing that's happened seems to warrant it."

The old wizard sighed and stroked his beard. "That is a question that Professor Snape will be answering shortly, Harry, and I freely admit that he is far more knowledgeable in that area than I, so I will leave it to him to explain." He peered at Harry closely over his glasses. "Was there anything else, my boy?"

"Er…" Harry started lamely, not sure he wasn't about to get ahead of himself. "When are we going to take the charm off Dudley?"

"That will be accomplished within the next few days," the Headmaster said. "It would be much safer for young Dudley if you, as a blood family member and the Head of his Family, were to lead the unbinding ritual, but you must be fully rested before that happens. If necessary, we will perform the ritual after you wake up from taking the wards."

Confirming that Harry had no more questions, Professor Dumbledore bade farewell to Harry, leaving him alone with Professor Snape.

The professor was silent for a long time. After a while, Harry, uncomfortable under Snape's scrutiny, started to fidget, wondering what the Potions Master needed to talk to him about. When the man did speak, however, it took Harry by surprise.

"What was the first Dark Arts spell you cast, Potter?" While the question was very direct, it lacked the snide tone Harry had come to associate so closely with Professor Snape.

"Er…" Harry said, flummoxed. "The Cruciatus, I suppose. At the Ministry." He frowned. "But it didn't work, sir."

"That matters not," Professor Snape said dismissively. "And before that? I believe you brewed and consumed Polyjuice Potion in your second year, did you not?"

Harry's ears burned red; Hermione had stolen boomslang skin from the Professor's private stores for that particular potion. "Yes, sir."

"Have you performed any other Dark Arts?" the man asked intently. "Think carefully, Potter, this is vital. Any Dark curse, any use of controlling Mind Arts…even something as small as an Obliviate, such as the one you used on the Headmaster."

Harry thought hard. "Well sir," he said. "I've used Legilimency, but I'm pretty sure that has to do with my vampirism more than any conscious attempt at the spell. And I Obliviated my relatives a couple of times this summer, when they found out I'd been sneaking out to feed. Other than that, I can't think of anything."

"Have you ever done any wandless magic?" Snape asked, continuing his inquiry.

"Other than accidental magic," Harry answered. "I lit up my wand when it wasn't in my hand before fifth year, when the dementors attacked. And I had to practice some this summer so I could Obliviate my relatives wandlessly. My wand still has the Trace on it."

"Of course it does," the Potions Master snorted. "The Trace cannot be removed. It simply wears off after a certain amount of time in the caster's possession." Watching Harry carefully, he continued, "Tell me Potter, do you know why the Unforgivable Curses are unforgivable?"

"Of course, sir," Harry responded, confused. "It's because they're so horrid. Mind control, excruciating pain, and instant death."

Snape sighed and straightened up. "Not quite, Harry," he said. Harry gaped at the use of his first name. "Healers use all three routinely. Potions Masters, Dragon Masters, and Ward Masters all are authorized to implant safety rules into the mind of an apprentice through the use of the Imperius curse. There is a potion called liquid Imperius. Do you know the difference between that potion and Veritaserum?" Harry shook his head mutely. "To liquid Imperius, a dram of undiluted alcohol and a single blade from the feather of a gryphon is added to create Veritaserum. The alcohol loosens the tongue and the gryphon feather prevents any untruths." Ignoring Harry's shocked look, the Potions Master continued. "Epilepsy and Parkinson's disease can be cured through judicious use of the Cruciatus curse. And Healers have another name for the Killing Curse…they call it Mercy." By this point, Harry's jaw felt as though it was resting on the floor, but Professor Snape just continued. "These were the original uses for all three of these spells. Harry, they are not called the Unforgivable Curses because of what they _do_. It is because of how they _work_."

Harry's brow furrowed. "I don't understand, sir."

Snape snorted derisively. "That's because Binns is a gibbering idiot and they stopped teaching the theory of Magic," he informed his pupil. "What you learn in Charms class is the theory of Charms; the same is said for Transfiguration. I will never understand how anyone can be expected to do their best without a basic grounding in what makes us wizards and witches." Seemingly settling in for a long lecture, the tall man finally deigned to sit in one of Dumbledore's chintz armchairs, after glaring rather balefully at the ghastly orange and purple paisleys. "Today, Light magic is defined in popular society as 'Good' magic, and Dark magic is 'evil', but this is not the way it always was. Back in the time of Circe, all the way up through the fourth century, the term 'Light' magic was used to define magic that was, simply put, easy. The spells that the weakest of wizards could learn and cast without a problem. In those times, magics like the Patronus charm and Animagus, which we are now taught to be some of the strongest Light magics in existence, were classified as 'Deep' magic. These are the spells, rituals, and potions that required one to reach into his very soul to accomplish. They are also far more impressive. It was this fact, combined with the spread of Christianity through the Roman empire, that led to the change in terms.

"The Christians believed that magic was the work of the devil. The Deep magics required the caster to give more of himself in return for a larger effect. Larger effect, however, meant more exposure, and the Christian Muggles began to call these magics 'Dark'. Over the next four centuries or so, the wizarding community picked up the term and 'Dark' came to mean evil, whilst 'Light' came to mean good. Much of what is considered Dark magic today is simply Deep. It is important to remember that magic, in and of itself, is both good and evil, while being neither at the same time. It is said that Merlin was once asked to define magic, and his response was simply, 'Magic is'. That is the history of the terms, but there is theory to back it up as well.

"Under the old definition, Light magic is magic that requires little more than the ability to manipulate the magic inherent in every living being, a method of focus – whether it be wand, staff, or merely a finger – and will. Will is simply as it sounds – a levitation spell takes nothing more than force of will, just like picking up a heavy weight.

"Deep magic, however, requires much more of the caster. There is no being in existence with the power to simply _will_ someone dead. These magics require an exchange, something of a request, if you will, for assistance from the ambient magic of the Earth. The price of any of these magics is that you bare your soul to Magic and let it see your _intent_. It takes great personal strength to expose oneself in such a way."

Snape fell silent for a while, and Harry asked, "This is all extremely interesting, sir, but what has it got to do with me?"

The Potions Master continued to sit quietly for a moment, then responded, "I seem to recall you and your friends speculating once, in your first few years of school, whether Draco Malfoy was receiving Dark magic training at home over the summer holidays." He paused, as though waiting for an answer.

"Er…sir?" Harry said, taking a guess. "Are you offering to teach me Deep magic?"

Snape's head snapped up, and the look on his face took Harry by surprise. Eyes blazing, the man said vehemently, "No, I am not, Potter. I am _telling _you that you _must_ receive training in such things. The exposure of the soul is not a trifle to be committed lightly, and there are _consequences_. These mood swings you have been having are a dangerous precursor to what _could_ happen. Wizards every bit as powerful as you and more have gone mad trying to delve too deeply into the Deep magics without preparation. To have cast the Unforgivable to is have bared your entire soul to magic – not just the good, as with the Patronus charm, nor the bad, as with a blood-boiling hex, but the _entire soul_. Imagine a fish from the very floor of the ocean suddenly brought into light, and the effect the sun would have on it, and you will have a glimmer of an idea what it means to expose oneself to such sudden exposure. The soul can become twisted, maimed. Enough abuse and it will eventually die off altogether." Suddenly, Snape was standing, moving toward Harry, and he grasped the boy's chin to pull his eyes up to meet blazing black orbs. "The Dark Lord once had a soul," he said solemnly. "Such a precious possession is far beyond him now."

* * *

A/N: Hallelujah! A brand-spankin' new chapter! Not a rewrite! Just a write! See? There IS a reason for Harry's braindead behavior! You nasty reviewer! Have faith, moron! :-D Anywho, let me know what you think. Coming up: the dreaded conversation with Hermione - Will she blame Harry? Or will she understand and forgive him? And what about being an Heir of Gryffindor?

Also featuring: Harry's birthday (maybe) and Dudley-bear goes to Market(for sure)! And who's that sniffing around the Whomping Willow? Don't they know they could get, well, Whomped?


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